


Darker

by desert_neon (sproutgirl)



Series: Indulgence [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Prompt Fic, Rough Sex, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1438069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sproutgirl/pseuds/desert_neon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Clint needs something that he doesn't know how to ask for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darker

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this [prompt list](http://desert-neon.tumblr.com/post/81753304099/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you-a).
> 
> Siddybikkits asked for number 9 or number 21. Since I already did 21 (about hickeys, which can be read [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1430284)) I decided to do number 9: _confessing a fetish_.
> 
> **Warning:** Language and content ahoy! Deals with a sexual situation that probably should have been discussed first. Also, Clint has kinks that tie into his history and childhood, so there’s the allusion of past non-con and or dub-con. I didn't warn for non-con, because it isn't ever even specifically mentioned. But it can be inferred. I don’t think the mindset Clint’s currently in is totally healthy, either. Please be aware of this in regards to your own well being.

“Harder, Phil. Fuck, oh fuck, fuck me harder.” Clint couldn’t keep his mouth shut anymore. Phil was pounding into him, and it was so good, so fucking amazing. It was almost perfect.

Almost.

“I’ve got you, Clint,” Phil soothed, his tone gentle even as he thrust into Clint with brute strength. “So good, babe, so good. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Clint clenched his jaw. He normally liked the things Phil said in bed, when he said anything at all. (Which wasn’t always the case; sometimes he was painfully quiet, like he still thought he was in the military and had to hide or something.) Phil was kind and reassuring, full of praise. A carryover, no doubt, from his early days as Clint’s handler, when Clint had reacted to praise like a man dying of thirst. Usually, Clint responded well to that. But sometimes . . .

Sometimes Clint had darker days. Darker moments. Moments when his childhood and his history couldn’t be so easily repressed, days when he needed something more familiar, more in line with what his inner self feared he was really worth. Sometimes he just wanted Phil to use him. Use his body and take what he wanted, and fuck what made Clint feel good. He wanted Phil to want him like that, like he couldn’t help himself, like Clint was just too hot and too convenient to resist.

But he knew that wasn’t at all what Phil would want. Phil was too nice, too respectful to ever treat someone that way. Certainly not Clint, whom he claimed to love.

“Phil, come _on_.” He shouldn’t get frustrated, he knew. Phil was doing his best, and it wasn’t his fault he didn’t know what Clint really wanted. What he needed. “Fuck, come on, fucking fuck me. Take me, Phil, make me take it. Fucking—” He cut himself off before he could slip further, and Phil was shifting along his back anyway, sitting up and pulling Clint with him.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?” Phil murmured into his ear as they settled on their knees, Clint leaning back against Phil’s chest.

“I want you to shut the fuck up with the pet names,” Clint growled, unable to stop himself. “And fucking take what you want from me.” Phil’s thrusts slowed, and Clint panicked. Phil wasn’t supposed to stop. If he stopped, he’d want to _talk_ , and if they talked, Clint would end up saying all the things he didn’t want Phil to know. Phil would learn just how fucked up Clint really was, still. Still. Again. Always.

So he reached back with one hand, grabbed Phil’s hair, and pulled and tugged him into a deep, harsh kiss. “Fuck me, Phil,” he ordered when they were just panting into each other’s mouths. “Use me however you want me. No endearments, no niceties. Take what you want. Be rough. I don’t even care if I don’t come, as long as you get what _you_ want.”

Phil’s eyes went wide, but they were also dark, pupils dilated beyond what was reasonable.

Clint smirked. “Do it.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when he suddenly found himself face down on the mattress, rearranged with a strong hand holding his head down and his ass in the air. Phil fucked him, steady and near brutal, and he was still talking, but now the words were something else completely.

“Fuck, you like that, Clint? Hm? You like when I just give it to you, when I make you take it? Of course you do, you love it. Jesus, look at you, with your ass in position for me to take. For me, Clint.”

“Yes,” Clint agreed, and ignored how close to a whine it was. “For you. Take it, Phil, use it.” He shifted, just his arms, to try for better balance, and was rewarded with a sharp sting on his ass and Phil dropping down over him to roughly pin his wrists.

“Don’t you fucking move. This isn’t about you anymore, is it?”

“No,” Clint said quickly. A part of him knew that was a lie, that this was all for him, that Phil, though turned on and willing, would never have initiated something like this himself. But he ignored that part, and focused on the perfection of everything else. “You. It’s about you.”

“That’s right. It’s about _me_. About what I want. And I want you to be a good boy and stop fucking squirming so I can fuck your tight ass and get myself off. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Clint keened, not only at the request, but at the fact that Phil had just hit his prostate forcefully.

“Yes, what, Clint?” Phil repeated, one hand letting go of Clint’s wrist to yank at his hair, forcing his head up.

“Yes, _sir_.”

“Good boy.”

And apparently Clint still did like praise, even in his darker, kinkier moments, because that’s when he finally came, shouting as his dick pulsed, untouched and ignored. Phil held him down through it, fucked him through it, his thrusts jerky and erratic now. Clint fucking loved it.

But eventually Clint came down, and he was having trouble holding himself up. His legs felt like jelly, and he was starting to slide down along the mattress. He’d struggle to get back in place, only to slowly slip with every harsh stab of Phil’s cock.

Phil was having none of it. He hauled Clint up by the waist, then changed his mind and pushed him down, letting him lie completely along the sheets. He went with him, still inside Clint, and nudged Clint’s legs with his own, demanding him to open up. Clint did, and then Phil lay fully over him, reached up, grabbed the top of the headboard with both hands, and used the leverage to just totally and utterly _fuck_ him.

Clint could do nothing under Phil’s weight but just lie there and take it, not that he wanted to do anything else at all. Phil was still talking, half-formed phrases and utterances that didn’t make any sense but that filled Clint with a soft buzz of completeness. When Phil came, he did it with a growl and a rough bite to Clint’s shoulder, causing Clint to cry out and his dick to twitch all over again.

Phil stayed for only a few moments, breathing heavily before levering himself up and out with a grunt of exertion. He left the bed, left the room, without a word, and Clint tracked his progress through to the bathroom, hearing the hum of the lighting, the running of the tap. Phil was usually a cuddler, after, and Clint was pretty sure this abrupt change in routine was Phil still trying to heed Clint’s request, trying to pretend he didn’t care about Clint’s needs in the afterglow.

So when the footsteps returned, faltering for a bit in the open doorway, Clint rolled, and let Phil see his satisfied grin. Phil’s lips twitched in return, but his eyes didn’t crinkle, so Clint held out a hand. “Now it’s cuddle and endearment time.”

Phil eagerly rejoined him in bed, kissed him softly and called him sweetheart. Clint pressed his grin into the skin of Phil’s neck and hummed.


End file.
